ON SEEING FOR THE FIRST TIME HIS PICTURE OF 'THE BOTTLE', IN THE COUNTRY ARTIST, whose hand, with horror wing'd, hath torn From the rank life of towns this leaf: and flung The prodigy of full-blown crime among Valleys and men to middle fortune born, Not innocent, indeed, yet not forlorn: Say, what shall calm us, when such guests intrude, Like comets on the heavenly solitude? Shall breathless glades, cheer'd by shy Dian's horn, Cold-bubbling springs, or caves? Not so! The Soul Breasts her own griefs: and, urg'd too fiercely, says: 'Why tremble? True, the nobleness of man May be by man effac'd: man can control To pain, to death, the bent of his own days. Know thou the worst. So much, not more, he can.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE AUTHOR TO HER BOOK by ANNE BRADSTREET THE MORAL FABLES: THE WOLF AND THE LAMB by AESOP THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PSALM 24. DOMINI EST TERRA by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE VERSES: THE SIXTH BOY by JOHN BYROM |